If you have to cheat, at least do it in style
by Pluppelina
Summary: Jonathan and Edward shares a cell in Arkham. Sometimes, they play chess at night. Sometimes, that gets out of hand. Rated for Disturbing themes and Scarecrow being creepy.


Author's Note: This is basically just here as a big kudos to Jawnay, who happens to not only be about 75% of the reason why this was even written, the beta-reader (SHADDAP YOU SO WERE) and eternal idea-bouncer but also wrote a chunk in the middle of this. So go stalk her at deviantart where she is JawnaySunshine and Tumblr where she is letsdothesplit because she's really freaking awesome. Now, moving on to the actual fiction!

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><p>"Queen from B3 to E3. Chess."<p>

"Your queen wasn't on B3, Edward."

"Yes it was."

"No, it was on C4. You really need to stop shifting your pieces diagonally down to the left, it's too obvious."

"I-"

"If you insist on cheating, at least do it with some style."

"_Fine_."

There is a silence that worries you. He can move without making a single sound and you know this because you have fallen prey to it one time too many. As long as he's talking it's alright, you can use his voice as a way to judge his position in relation to yourself. When he's silent in the dark, you get nervous.

"Your move."

"It isn't."

The voice is coming from alarmingly nearby now; he is pretty much breathing down your neck. What's worse, he's right. You've lost your focus and you have a hard time remembering where the pieces are supposed to be, so you pause to think, which leaves him time to move even closer and you are well aware of this as well but do not realize until it's already too late and his hand closes around your wrist.

"Let go off me." It was supposed to sound like a growl, threatening. It didn't, it was probably the reason he didn't do as you told him. You could almost hear him smile. When you live together in darkness you learn to hear facial expressions. But his mouth was almost pressed against your ear, the smile was screaming as his voice overshadowed the sound of your breaths. "I think you need some _proper_ parenting."

And as the silence resumed you had forgotten how to breathe and all that you could hear was how your heart was beating and his smile was screaming. You closed your eyes and tried your very best to ignore how close he was.

"Knight to H2." You swallowed. "Chess." The grip around your wrists lightened slightly and if you had leaned in you might have been able to hear his thoughts.

"It's not chess." Yes it was. You were sure it was because his king was on F3. You knew that. So you opened your mouth to protest but you could feel him mentally hush you as he continued; "It's checkmate."

You were a little shocked by this. "Oh." But why would he- you felt like you had gotten a mental slap and shut the hell up. If he was letting you win, you weren't going to protest about it. "I guess this game is over, then."

He was still breathing into your ear, grinning, and for one terrible moment you came very close to hearing what he had planned, but then he spoke and his words overshadowed the menace in his head.

"Did you ever play games with your dad, Eddie?"

If it had been anyone else, you would've been offended. You would've retaliated full-force. But this is Jonny, and you're going to be stuck with him for a very long time in this small room, so you'd rather not have a fight with him.

"No."

"No?"

"No."

And then the unavoidable; "why not?"

"My dad was a mean bastard." You tried to make it sound final, make it clear to him that you weren't interested in talking anymore, and his grin seemed to slip into something else, something easier… Was he smiling?

"Lucky I'm not, then."

Your breath is hitched by a sudden tension in the air and for a moment you consider staying silent on account of it, but you can feel the question itching away inside of you and you feel a need to know, if nothing else just to see exactly what you have misunderstood.

"Not what?" The fear in your voice shines through the cockiness and perhaps that's what saves you from his anger.

"Not mean. Evil, perhaps. Bastard, _most definitely_. But mean?" A hand, his hand, is tenderly run through your hair, confusing you and frightening you further. "Not that."

You're not sure about what you should say or do next. Your breath is ragged, your heart racing and your composure shattered. You're afraid of him and he knows it, you bet he even likes it, and if you make a move to try and convince him otherwise he might get violent. Luckily for you, you don't have to make your mind up about anything as he just goes on.

"I care about you, Eddie." His thumb slowly caresses your forehead, the rest of his hand still making small circles in your hair. "If you were my boy, I would **never** hurt you."

_His boy_. What does that mean? He's way too close for comfort now, his face moving away from your ear, over your face and- oh god, is he going to rape you? You feel panic as his hand slowly slides down your face, over your cheek, almost… soothingly? Then he lets go of your wrist and the panic slowly goes away, leaving you with a fiercely beating heart and a mind racing so fast you've given up on trying to follow it as the covers are drawn up and tucked in around you. Then he places a soft kiss on your forehead before leaning back.

"And what do you say, Eddie?"

A sudden jolt goes through you at his tone and pronunciation. He can't possibly know. How could he possibly know. Of course he doesn't know. And still... He still says it in your father's exact voice. He doesn't move and you know why and he knows why and you realise you're holding your breath.

"Thank you... daddy."


End file.
